


Meeting

by panzerplause



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, M/M, OCs - Freeform, Real Life? - Freeform, Self Harm, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 16:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panzerplause/pseuds/panzerplause
Summary: After arriving in Norway Virgil looks for work.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	Meeting

The sun shone on the snow to make it twinkle like glitter. The air oppressive in its dryness, the cold burning through the lungs of the people who were out and about despite the weather. His black boots crunched through the snow, the sound drowned out by passing cars and other pedestrians.   
A store caught his eye, all black, a stark contrast to the pristine white surroundings. A record store, flyers on the windows. "Vocalist needed for evil metal band!!" Written in English and what Virgil knew was Norwegian, but could not read. Virgil snatched up the flyer, trudging his way into a phone booth. His warm breath cast fog onto the glass nearby. With cold, numb hands he inserted a coin into the phone, dialing the number listed on the flyer.   
  
A man's voice on the phone, laughing and speaking with several others who Virgil could hear in the background. He answered in Norwegian, but when Virgil said "Hello?" Responded in English.  
"Hello, Aleks here..." The man said, his accent thick. Virgil wasn't sure how to respond.  
"Um... I saw flyer, outside of music shop." He said, playing out in his head what he would need to say next. "I am musician, would like to play for band." The man -Aleks- on the other line quickly gave out some information about where they'd meet up and told Virgil to be ready to play with them or bring a tape to demonstrate what his sound was like. Virgil repeated the address in his mind over and over, committing it to memory. He quickly thanked Aleks and hung up, before realizing that he hadn't even given him his name. But he had an address and a time to meet with his potential new band members.   
Virgil, now finished at the payphone stuffed the flyer into his coat pocket. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten in almost over a day. He glanced around, wondering if there was somewhere to eat in this winter landscape.   
  
Some hours later the sun was beginning to set on the winter landscape, hues of purple and red bouncing off of the snow. Virgil lay asleep in the back of his van, a thin foam mattress the only thing between him and the floor. He startled awake, a cold sweat forming on his brow. He quickly staggered to his feet, checking the time. He would be late if he didn't head to the address he was given. He quickly climbed into the driver's seat, wracking his brain for where the street location was. South, in the neighborhoods, he thought. So he started to head that way, his old van chugging along. By some miracle, or plain luck he found the street the house seemed to be on. The neighborhood thinned out as he headed down the street, giving way to nature with an odd house placed here or there. The location made him sweat, but he watched for the correct house number. 7431, there it was. He pulled into the dirt driveway, his stomach doing flips as he set the brake on his van and go out.   
Paint had peeled from the house, the previous color showing through the newest paint job. Several windows had been boarded over, had they been broken? The yard, covered in snow, have stray bits of garbage, a beer bottle here, cigarette butts there. Virgil wondered if he was in the right place. It reminded him of home.  
He shuffled through the snow to the front porch, stomping the now melting snow off of his boots. He knocked three times, awkwardly shifting in place as he waited for someone to answer the door. He heard several locks click, some Norwegian swearing before the door finally shifted open. In front of him stood a blond man, quite a bit taller than him, with long hair that he had never seen at home. He wore an inverted cross and spoke in a rough tone, through his thin lips.   
  
"You were on the phone right? We've been waiting for you uh... oh yeah, I'm Aleks, you are..." Aleks tilted his head down slightly to look Virgil in the eyes as he spoke.  
"Yeah, Virgil." He said briefly, feeling strangely intimidated. Virgil knew he wouldn't look too out of place, with his dark hair finally beginning to reach the nape of his neck, his piercings, or his dark clothes. However, he felt like a fish out of water. He had never played with a band.   
Aleks stepped to the side, his long hair swaying. He gestured for Virgil to come in. The house smelled of cigarette smoke, beer, and something sour... perhaps vomit? Virgil followed behind him, wiping off his shoes at the front door. Aleks made a 'follow me' gesture as he leads him through the house.  
"You're not from around here?" He asked, glancing back at Virgil. Virgil shook his head, unsure if it would be wise to tell him where he was from.  
"The union, right? Russia? You sound like it, anyways." Virgil shrugged, uncomfortable by the assertion. Aleks seemed to get the message and stopped probing him for now. He leads him down a set of creaky stairs into the basement. The old concrete floor was cracked and stained, old cigarette butts lying astray. Virgil was quickly introduced to the band, who were sitting around laughing and talking, though he felt so overwhelmed that he couldn't remember any of their names. Maybe he wouldn't need to. He was given a sheet of paper with lyrics on them, Aleks explaining that because he didn't bring a demo tape with his vocals that they'd just have to play a couple of songs. Virgil nodded and swallowed the saliva that was pooling in his mouth as he became nauseous. He didn't even know these people. The drummer, a young man with dark hair down to his back counted them in, and suddenly the band was playing. Virgil wasn't sure when he was supposed to come in with vocals, but when Aleks gave him a glance he knew he was supposed to. It clicked, he shrieked and screamed and it seemed like all the tension from his body, from his current and past life was gone, even if just for a few moments. The song faded out eventually and Virgil was left with a hurting throat, but a small sense of pride underneath the exhaustion. Aleks, who seemed to be the leader of the band looked at him and grinned.   
"I've never heard anyone sing like that!" He said, patting Virgil on the shoulder. Virgil moved away from the touch but nodded, his nervousness coming back.   
"Look, I want you in the band- where are you staying? So we can all meet up again." Virgil's stomach dropped, all he had was the van.  
"Well-" he started, "Been living in van since coming here." Aleks seemed to think for a moment, turning to the other band members who were watching them. They spoke in Norwegian, glancing at Virgil several times during the conversation. Aleks, who seemed to be the only one who spoke any decent English turned back to him.   
"You can stay here if you join the band," Aleks said, tone suddenly serious. Virgil considered the options in his head, he needed work, he needed food, and a place to stay that wasn't the van... but he didn't know these people, at all. He shouldn't stay here.  
"Okay- yeah, that will work." He said. Aleks relayed the information to the rest of the band and gestured for Virgil to follow him.   
"We don't have a guest bedroom but... you can stay on the couch, or we can move a bed into the basement." Virgil opted for the couch, deciding he would keep most of his things in the van, and only bring his clothes into the house.   
  
-  
To him, it was weird. Staying with complete strangers. It had been slightly awkward, the other band members barely speaking any English, with Virgil not knowing any Norwegian. They hadn't done much for the past week, practicing here and there, Virgil going into town almost every day to wander around. Aleks decided that night they would start working on new material, having Virgil write some lyrics since he would be the one singing them.  
Virgil sat on a creaky stool in the basement, puffing on a cigarette. He had tried to quit but couldn't quite. Aleks had been critiquing his writing the entire time.   
"It's not evil enough." He said, handing the notepad back to Virgil, crossing his arms. Virgil rolled his eyes and huffed, his glare settling on Aleks.  
"Well, I don't know what to write! Fuck!" He said, throwing down the pen and notepad. Aleks sighed, "Maybe this won't work then, since you are being a big baby. Going back to your own country might be a good idea." Aleks wasn't intending to provoke Virgil, but suddenly he was on him, hitting him hard in the jaw. Aleks groaned in pain and kicked him off, standing up quickly with his hand up to his face.  
"Dude, what the fuck." He said. "Fine, no more writing for today."   
Virgil sat on the concrete floor, huffing and puffing in anger. He was not sure how he boiled over so quickly like that, just suddenly snapping on his bandmate. Slowly he stood up, brushing dirt off of himself and picking up his still-lit cigarette. He decided it would be a good time to go into town.   
-  
  
Aleks managed to book them a concert gig, a month and a half after Virgil joined as their frontman. Virgil told him one night, about a band he heard of that used dead animal parts on stage- and that their vocalist harmed himself on stage. They'd looked each other in the eye and knew what they wanted to have for the concert. It took a little bit of planning and convincing of the venue to allow them to bring animal parts into the show but they promised to clean up afterward. Maybe they could get some recognition, whether it was from infamy or genuine admiration though could be questioned. They used Virgil's van, loading up their equipment. Virgil broke out in a sweat as they neared their destination, him with Aleks in the back of the van to make sure nothing tipped over.   
Virgil watched Aleks, wishing the bruise that had blossomed nicely on his face had stayed. It had looked nice against his pale skin, the red and purple had eventually faded to yellow and green. He met eyes with Aleks and looked away.  
After getting all their equipment set up on stage the venue darkened, they had a little bit of a crowd, more than expected for their obscure little band. Virgil hadn't done anything special for his look, he wasn't into the leather and spikes like the others. The concert started, he tried his best to hype up the crowd but it seemed like the best thing to do was to start the music. The drummer counted them in as Virgil introduced the music. It was like rehearsals before, something clicked and Virgil was able to jump into it. He didn't focus on the crowd, he found his focus wandering back to Aleks as he screeched and screamed the dark lyrics. Halfway through the concert the stage lights became oppressive and he lost his shirt, a break in the song came. That was the plan, he brought out the large knife that Aleks had lent him. He sliced deep gashes into his arms, dropping the knife when it was his time to jump back into the song.  
It was like the audience had never seen, different from most of the punk and metal bands that played in the area. They'd loved it. Virgil headed backstage, to clean himself up and hopefully find a shirt to put on since it would be freezing outside. Aleks had been the only one to follow him backstage, offering him a spare shirt he had brought. Virgil accepted and Aleks moved close to him to hand it to him.   
  
Instead, Aleks grabbed him by the wrist, smearing blood on his hand. He brought Virgil's arm to his mouth, licking the blood from his wounds. Virgil froze in place, his dark eyes fixated on Aleks. The sensation of his warm tongue and breath selling shivers down his spine. He told himself it was the cold in the room, and not some other feeling he was having. Finally, he yanked his arm away, his heart beating wildly as Aleks gave him the shirt and ran off to help the others pack up their instruments. 

**Author's Note:**

> sequal to escapism :) hopefully i will do more of these


End file.
